


Repose Tetrarch 2: Blinding Brilliance of a Cloudless Sky

by farad



Series: Repose Tetrarch [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: Chris sees more than he understands.





	Repose Tetrarch 2: Blinding Brilliance of a Cloudless Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JoJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/gifts).



Chris wasn’t sure when he first noticed it. He’d been concentrating so hard on trying to remember every little detail about Ella Gaines, everything he had learned so long ago, in the time they had spent together before he’d come to his senses. Trying to come up with any hint of where she might have gone to ground. 

When he hadn’t been thinking of her she might be, he’d been thinking of the ways he was going to make her pay for killing Sara and Adam. And, from time to time, the way she’d almost killed his friends. 

And in the rare moments he wasn’t thinking of those things, he was trying to control the pain, to do what he had to do to get himself ready for the confrontation he was going to have with her. 

Everything else – Mary’s anger, Nathan’s worry, Josiah’s frustration, Buck’s sullenness, Vin’s sense of failure, Ezra’s silence – all of that was so distant that he barely realized it. 

But eventually, the pain began to recede and though he was still weak, too damned weak, he found he was having a harder time keeping his focus. Despite the anger. Oh it was still there, a flame that burned him from the inside out. But it was growing less intense. 

Perhaps it was the return of the grief, and the guilt – he had brought this on Sara and Adam, all along it had been his fault; the grief and the guilt edged their way in, beating back the anger. They wove through his dreams, waking him at all hours of the night with the sense of drowning, his body filled with a river of pain that seemed never to end. 

He struggled to rekindle the anger, hoping it would consume him, or at least keep the grief and guilt away. 

Instead, the struggle left him restless and exhausted. He sat on the boardwalk, every day, looking for someone to ride into town with news. 

Looking for Ella Gaines to come riding in, so he could get it right this time. 

From his place on the boardwalk, he stared down the road, turning all his various problems over in his head yet again. He was warm – finally; it seemed like he’d never been warm before, and for weeks it felt like he’d never be warm again, but finally, he was able to sit without that damned blanket around him. 

So he sat now, ignoring, still, the people around him. It was after noon. He’d talked to Vin and Buck earlier, gotten, once more, their stories of finding nothing. 

Not that he was mad at them, not really; he knew Ella Gaines, knew what she was capable of. Now, more than before. But she had always been a schemer, he’d known that back then. It was part of why he’d finally left her. 

Buck had said it best: ‘Probably had a bolt hole from the start, some other dead husband’s property.’ 

He owed them, all of them – and Mary. But that was for later. Thinking on that distracted him from the anger, and he needed that anger. 

Buck’s idea ran around in his head though. It wasn’t a bad idea, and the more he thought about it, the more it distracted him. When he’d met her, she’d been on the arm of a local cattleman’s son, a guy with more money than sense. 

He was thinking about that, thinking about how she’d been laughing, her head thrown back, her hair caught up on the back of her head but wisps of it loose and drifting around her face, when he’d first walked into that saloon. She’d been dressed in shades of red, a rose amongst the thorns. 

Her image had been frozen in his mind as he’d made his way to the bar, ordered, and downed his first three shots of whiskey. He’d come off a trail ride a couple of days back, was flush with money – though not nearly as much as the boy she was with. 

As the bartender poured him another shot, Chris turned around to look at her again – and there she was was, right in front of him. 

She was getting another drink – though the glass she held was still half full. She smiled, a smile he would come to know for the danger it was. But then, it was flirtatious, inviting. 

The thrill, at first, had been the secrecy. She wasn’t ready to give up her rich boy - ‘daddy’s money makes him a honey’ - but eventually, Chris couldn’t stand the lying. Or the idea of sharing her. 

In retrospect, he knew now that that was what had started the strange and dangerous game that had been the basis of their relationship. From that point on, Ella had used those concerns to keep him both interested in her and to pique her own interest. She seemed to thrive on pushing him, flirting with any man who came along, asking about their lives, their jobs – their money. 

At the time, he knew she was trying to make him jealous. 

Now, though, he realized that Buck had been right: she needed wealthy men. She’d already had one on the string when he’d finally had enough and walked away. 

He just had to remember the man’s name . . . 

It was then, as he dredged his memory of the past, that he noticed Vin slipping in the doorway of the hotel. It was an oddity – Vin didn’t spend much time there that Chris knew of. Like the rest of them, he had a room at the boarding house, and he had his wagon in the alleyway behind the Potter’s mercantile. He wasn’t much for the restaurant there, thinking it too high priced and fancy for his tastes on the whole. 

But that, Chris recalled, was part of why this particular sight stirred something: he’d noticed Vin slipping in there several times as of late. 

While it wasn’t his concern where and what Vin did, at least off the job, Vin was his friend. It was a thought that nagged at him, given what had happened before everything had gone to hell with Ella Gaines. Vin had tried to warn him – and he’d turned on Vin. If he’d listened to Vin – and to Buck – he might not be sitting here now, willing his body to get strong enough to find the bitch while his friends did the work for him. 

No, Vin drifting in and out of the hotel wasn’t any of his concern, though it was a curiosity. 

What was the bigger curiosity, though, was that Ezra was doing the same thing. 

While it wasn’t uncommon for Ezra to frequent the place, it was usually at night; if the saloon wasn’t lucrative enough, he would stroll into the hotel to see if there were people in the small bar there who might want a diversion. 

If he were really flush, Chris knew for a fact that Ezra would pay for a night or two in one of the better rooms, enjoying the private bath facilities, the deep mattresses, and the absolute privacy. 

Chris knew this because he had taken the time to come to know Ezra. He had told himself that it was because Ezra had run out on him those first days, because he needed to be sure where Ezra was and what – and why – he was doing it. 

He told himself it was because he needed Ezra – for the team. For the success of the town. 

He told himself that if Ezra had said to him the same things Buck and Vin had, he would have still acted the same way. Done the same thing. 

Been as sure of Ella’s sincerity and commitment. 

But as he ordered those thoughts in his head, he recalled the panic he had felt with the attack started, and he had run out of the house to see Ezra on the ground, a clear target for anyone around, his hands scrambling through the dirt. Later, days later, as he had been laying in the bed in Nathan’s rooms, struggling to make his body work, he had learned that Ezra was searching for a diamond that he thought he had lost. 

It turned out, of course, to be a fake – as had everything else about Ella Gaines and her companions. 

Strangely, though, it had been that moment, when he had seen Ezra exposed as a target, that Chris had realized just how stupid he had been. It had almost been a relief when he’d been shot, and Vin had been there to protect the others. 

To protect Ezra. 

Now, Ezra was the one who drew his attention. Most of the time as of late, Vin and Buck were out looking for her – if anyone could find her, it would be them. Josiah, Nathan, JD – they were needed here. They were the heart of the town, and even if things had gone as he’d dreamed, if he’d stayed with Ella and lived the life she’s promised, these three would have stayed and stabilized the town. 

But that left Ezra, the wildcard – as always. After the attempted assassination of Mary, Chris had come to realize that Ezra was committed to this town. And that Ezra, himself, was the last person to know. 

He had risked his life – and he would do it again, Chris knew – though Ezra might not yet. 

If he stayed. 

While Buck and Vin had searched out of town, Nathan, Josiah, and JD had kept the town working, practically, Ezra had been the one who could pick up and leave at any time. 

Yet he hadn’t. 

Now, he disappeared into the hotel, just after Vin. 

As he had been doing for a while now, Chris realized, that memory coming far more readily than the one about Ella Gaines and her wealthy boyfriends. Now that he thought about it, he recalled that he’d seen Ezra and Vin slipping into the hotel whenever Vin was in town. 

Chris’ first instinct was to go down there, slip inside the hotel and figure out where the two of them were. Find out if they were in a room and if so, lean against the door and hear what he could. 

But getting out of the chair was still hard, and walking a distance was harder still. 

And there was no way he could go unnoticed, not now. So he had to be find another way. 

Strangely, he knew what it was almost immediately. He couldn’t talk to Ezra – the man played word games as sport. 

But Vin was a different matter. 

He watched the hotel for most of the afternoon, not surprised when he didn’t see either of them leave, but then he was greeted by Ezra stepping through the swinging doors of the Standish Tavern and walking leisurely over to him. “Mr. Larabee,” he said, his tone pleasant. “Might I get you something?” 

It was getting into the late afternoon, and though he’d been drinking water – a requirement to get his health back, according to Nathan – he thought a beer would be a welcome treat. 

He thought for a few seconds about getting up and going into the saloon himself; it wouldn’t be the first time, though it was still rare. Tobacco smoke, wood smoke, even the smoke from the oil lamps, made him cough and his chest ache. “Appreciate a beer,” he said with a nod of thanks. 

And out here, he’d be more likely to actually have a conversation with Vin, whenever Vin showed up. 

Ezra returned a few minutes later with a glass of beer. As he handed it to Chris, Chris noticed the smell of his aftershave and soap; Ezra had recently bathed, and he was not wearing the brown coat he’d been in earlier; now he wore the gambler’s garb that was more familiar to them all, this time the green jacket with the green and gold waistcoat that seemed to catch any light around. 

“You seen Vin?” Chris asked as he took the offered glass. 

Ezra shrugged slightly. “Earlier today, yes, but he’s not in the saloon now.” 

“No, reckon not - unless he came sneaking in through the back.” Chris waved his free hand to indicate their location: on the boardwalk, near the saloon’s swinging doors. Where he could see anyone coming and going, as long as they were using the obvious entrance. 

Ezra smiled. “Well, he has not come through the back,” he said, giving nothing away. But then Chris hadn’t expected him to. For all his banter – and lord knew there were more than enough of that – Ezra actually said very little of importance. 

“Y’all come up with another idea?” Chris asked, trying to make the question seem natural. 

Ezra frowned. “As to the location of that woman?” he asked. At Chris’ nod, he went on, “I have not been consulted as to a new idea, no. Do you have one?” 

Chris shrugged. “Vin and Buck seem to think it’s possible that she has another former husband’s property and name somewhere.” 

“Seems plausible. The woman had obviously spent quite a lot of time considering her plan and what she was going to do. But how will you find out?” 

That was the big part of what he’d put his mind to that day. And there was only one answer: “Head back to where I left her all those years ago and pick up the trail.” 

Ezra tilted his head, thinking about it. “If she married someone wealthy, it would seem like there would have been some mention in a local paper. Mary may well be able to help with that.” 

Chris had already thought of that, too, but it also led to something else he needed to do: explain things to Mary. After the arrival of the letter from Ella Gaines, claiming to be Ella Gaines Larabee, Mary had actively avoided him, going out of her way to walk on the other side of the street whenever she had to go from one side of town to the other. 

“I could talk to her,” Ezra said quietly. “I suspect she has some idea of the seriousness of the situation.” 

Chris took a sip of his beer, letting himself appreciate the taste of it before turning his mind to the offer. He really didn’t want to talk to Mary, not yet. Not until he had a better sense of what he needed to say to her. 

And if Ezra got involved in this part of the search, then it’d keep him in town. 

Unless he was staying in town for Vin . . . 

The thought of that almost made him choke, but he caught himself. The idea of it had been flitting around the edges of his brain all day, but it didn’t make sense. Vin and Ezra? 

“Mr. Larabee? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Shall I fetch Nathan?” Ezra started away but Chris shook his head, clearing his throat. 

“Just went down the wrong way,” he said, coughing a little. The idea of Vin and Ezra still rattled him, but he forced himself to push it out of his mind. “If you see Mary, yes, see if she’ll make some inquiries.” 

“I’ll do so,” Ezra said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are some gentlemen inside who seem to have an excess of wealth and a lack of restraint.” With that, he touched the brim of his hat and made his way back to the saloon doors, slipping inside them with an ease that made Chris envious.

He took another sip of beer, once more trying to appreciate it, but as the taste of it rolled over his tongue, his mind offered up an image that took his breath away: Ezra and Vin in one of the hotel’s canopied beds, the blankets thrown off but the two of them covered by one of the cotton clothes the hotel used. There was skin, pale and paler, muscles taut and defined, so much alike that he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other started. 

Which brought up a different concept and image, one that made him light-headed. 

He made himself breathe, slowly and deeply, as he did when the pain was at its worst. This wasn’t pain – at least, not the pain he was used to. 

But there was a sort of pain in it. At first, he thought it was the pain of betrayal – the idea that two of the men he trusted were betraying him, illegally, immorally, and in every other way he could think of. 

It wasn’t right for two men to be doing what his mind conjured up. 

The anger came, but fresh now, rekindling the coals of recent days, but giving this fire a cleaner flame, one untainted by his own sins. 

How dare they do this to him – how dare them sneak around behind his back and violate every idea of decency known to man? In comparison, his own sins were mild. At least his sins had to do with women, not with his own kind. 

But as he thought that, the image floated once more through his mind, the two of them together, bare skin, swollen lips, tousled hair. 

That damnable smirk on Ezra’s face as he turned to look toward Chris, his green eyes bright, his pale skin flushed, one hand stretching out - 

“You all right?” 

The words were low but close and Chris jerked, his breath catching in his throat as he turned to find Vin standing close. 

The anger, the surprise and the alarm that came with it, the image of Ezra still fresh in his mind, Chris didn’t think before he spoke. “What the hell are you doing with him? How long have you two been carrying on with this – this – this – thing?” 

Chris managed to keep his voice low, though it was such an effort that he found himself struggling for breath – which was probably a good thing, as it shut him up and gave him a chance to see what his words had done. 

Vin’s eyes were wide, staring at Chris, even as he took a step back. His hands clenched, though the right hand strayed close to his holstered gun, and Chris reached instinctively for his own – to find that it wasn’t there. He wasn’t wearing his gunbelt, hadn’t been since the whole damned thing had started. 

His mind, though, was processing several realizations at the same time: Vin was caught off guard, but he hadn’t stopped to ask Chris what the hell he was talking about. In that, Chris saw an admission of truth which justified his anger, giving him a sense of righteous indignation. 

For a few seconds. Until Vin’s surprise faded, and his gaze flattened. He stared at Chris for a time then he said slowly, and also quietly, “Reckon what I do and with whom ain’t none of your damned business, leastways, not since you told me something similar the night before that woman’s men shot you and tried to kill the rest of us.” 

Chris drew a breath, feeling the words like a blow – one that had been a long time coming, one that he’d expected the first few times he’s awakened in Nathan’s clinic and found Vin in the room. The fear of them had faded as this had gone on, and Vin had taken to his horse, tracking down every lead they had come across in their quest to find Ella Gaines. 

In Chris’ quest, he reminded himself. And with that, some of the fury, some of the betrayal, eased away. But only some, not enough to stop him from saying, “So you don’t deny that you and Ezra been . . .” He searched for a word – what did you call it when two men were - “keeping company?” 

Vin started talking almost before Chris was finished. “Ain’t none of your business who I keep company wi- Ezra?” What had started off as an anger as hot as Chris’ gave way to a confusion that was almost comical to watch – and had Chris not still been on the edge of his own anger, he might have laughed. 

“I saw you two sneaking off to the hotel,” he said, trying to push down the image of the two of them in the bed that kept trying to crowd his mind. “And you have said often that it ain’t your kind of place – though I know for a fact that it Ezra’s kind of place. Don’t take a lot to imagine what the two of you are getting up to.” 

Vin stared at him again, his hands still clenched. But soon, his glare softened and his forehead relaxed. “No, it ain’t my first choice,” he said slowly, as if he were counting his words. “But we figured we wouldn’t be bothered too much there, not in the afternoon.” 

Something roiled hot and thick in Chris’ belly as he heard the confirmation of his thinking. They had been up to something, the two of them sneaking into the hotel in the middle of the day - 

“He’s helping me understand some of the things in the Bible,” Vin said, these words even more slow and quiet. “Things I thought I knew from when I was a kid, but that don’t make sense to me now.” 

The words made no sense at first, and when they finally did, Chris laughed. It wasn’t a long laugh – it made his belly and his chest hurt, and he tasted copper as he found himself gasping out, “You’re talking to Ezra about the Bible? What the hell kinda fool do you think I am?” 

He coughed a few more times, spitting out saliva and what appeared to be some blood, before managing to relax back into the chair. 

“Ezra knows a lot about the Bible,” Vin said. “And he can read it.” 

The words were short and clear – and reminded Chris that he knew one of Vin’s secrets – one that the other man held dear. 

The realization of that brought him up short, curbing the anger – which opened the way for the confusion. “If you want to know what’s in the Bible, why talk to Ezra? Why aren’t you talking to Josiah?” 

Vin blinked, then he blinked again. For a second, Chris thought he saw confusion in those clear blue eyes, as if the idea had not occurred to him. But that made no sense – Vin knew, as did they all, that Josiah was their resident preacher. The man who knew the Bible. 

“You ever tried to talk to Josiah about the Bible?” Vin asked, his voice low. 

That idea made Chris snort. “I ain’t talking to anyone about the Bible,” he said, letting the words carry some of his anger away. “But if I were, no, he’d not high on the list of folk who I’d want to talk to. I don’t doubt but that he knows it, but I do doubt how he wants to interpret it.” As he said the words, he considered anew what Vin was saying. “You worried about his view of it?” 

Vin shrugged and looked away, and Chris saw more of his tension drain away. “I can’t say. I don’t know enough about it to understand half of what he says. That’s why I asked Ezra. He can read some of it to, the actual words of it.” 

Chris started to nod, understanding. But then another thought caught him up. “Why’s it matter to you want the Bible says?” 

Vin blew out a long, slow breath, then said softly, “In some ways, it don’t matter. It’s a story, like a lot of others, with a lot of things that go one way, then the other, at odds. But . . .” He paused, then he turned to look directly at Chris. “After my ma died, I lived for a time with her ma. She told me a lot of things that she said came from the Bible. A lot of things about how I was to blame for what happened to my ma.” He looked away again, shrugging his shoulders. “I carried a lot of that guilt with me, even though I knew I didn’t have anything to do with my ma and pa and what they did that got me borned. But I never could shake the heart of it, that if I’d done something different as a kid, my ma would still be with me.”

Chris stared at the other man. It wasn’t the words so much, though they were new; Vin didn’t talk about his past much, not in any detail. But Chris had heard enough over the years to know that the death of his mother, and the absence of any sort of father, had figured a lot into the hardness of Vin’s life and his attitudes about what was right and wrong. 

The part about his grandmother and the Bible was not really a surprise either, though the extent of it was. 

What got to him, though, was the idea of the guilt. The idea that Vin believed something he had done had caused the loss of his mother. 

It was too close to Chris’ own thoughts as of late, and the idea that someone else, someone whose ideas he respected, was thinking along the same lines eased him some. 

Enough to make him shake his head at his own first thoughts. 

As if knowing his mind, Vin said, “You thought me and Ezra were . . .” He drew in a breath, shaking his head. “Losing all that blood has messed up your head, Chris.” He looked down at the glass on the table beside Chris, which still had some beer in it. “You have them thoughts before you had that beer?” 

Chris shook his head, thankful that the distracting images were fading. Maybe it had been the beer. Or maybe he was becoming as crazy as the woman he was looking for. 

That wasn’t a pleasant thought. 

He looked back up to Vin and said, “Ezra’s gonna talk to Mary, see if there’s maybe something in some paper about her getting married before.” 

Vin nodded and turned to look out into the street. “Was thinking about heading into Mexico, maybe hit a couple of the border towns. If I were looking to hole up, I’d head out of the country.” 

The idea of it caught fire in Chris’ mind, bringing up memories he’d forgotten. “She spoke Spanish,” he said, recalling times when she’d tried to teach him Spanish by teasing him with phrases he didn’t understand. “And she said something about her mother’s family who were . . . from somewhere south of the border – how the hell did I forget that?” 

Vin shrugged. “Long time ago. But makes it worth the hunt. I’ll go get saddled up -” 

“No,” Chris said, sitting forward in his chair. “I want to do this – I need to do this.” 

Vin frowned. “You sure you’re up to it? Could be a long trip, if you’re checking different towns.” He lifted his head, his chin aimed at Chris’ glass. “You don’t seem to be able to hold your beer yet. Might not be ready for a long trip.” 

Chris glanced at the glass, seeing that it was still half full. He started to speak, but a sharp pain in his chest caught him by surprise and he couldn’t stop the gasp. 

As he jerked back, turning instinctively to ease the pain, he realized that Vin had done it intentionally, indicating the glass so that Chris would turn to look at it – and pull on the wound in his chest. He glared at the other man, annoyed to find one of Vin’s eyebrows arched in question and his lips twitching slightly at the corners. 

“Reckon I can find someone to go with me,” Vin said. “One of us will wire you when we find her. Figure it might take a time, so you can heal up some more, maybe get back up to your drinking weight.” 

The words were said lightly, and for a second, Chris almost relaxed. Until he considered who Vin might go with. 

The image of Vin and Ezra, naked and intimate, was just as wrenching now as it had been the first time. 

And as it clouded his vision, he realized that in the image, it wasn’t Vin who drew his eye. 

“Reckon it’d be best if I asked Josiah to come along,” Vin said, though his voice was distant, so much so that the words didn’t break through Chris’ awareness for a time, and when they finally did, his irritation and worry was such that his first thought was that it would be good for Vin to be gone. 

So that Ezra would not be distracted by Vin. 

Though - “Josiah?” Chris asked, though the word came out garbled as he had no saliva in his mouth. 

Vin was looking away from Chris, down the street and toward the church, or so it seemed, so Chris couldn’t see his eyes or his face. His voice, though, when he spoke was mild, too mild. As if he were going on a Sunday afternoon picnic. 

“Reckon I need someone who can send that telegram,” Vin said. But before Chris could find words, Vin’s tone hardened a little as he said, “And down there, reckon a priest, even a former one, can get information in places I can’t. Ella Gaines might not have been an honest woman, but most other people are, and if she went to ground down there, someone will know something. They might not talk easily, but they’ll talk to their kin and to their priests.” 

Chris drew in a breath, not so fast as it made him hurt again. But the idea of it, in combination with what he had remembered . . . “If Josiah will go, I’ll be beholden to you both.” 

Vin nodded once, still looking away. “Think he will. Think he’d like to do something that ain’t standing around watching over you or Buck.” 

Vin said it lightly, again, not a censure, which made Chris think about it. And to remember Vin’s words earlier about wanting to talk to Josiah about the Bible. 

“Might give me a chance to learn something,” Vin said. “To talk to him about the Bible and what Ezra done explained to me. I’d like to put that learning to work.” He turned then, catching Chris’ gaze straight on. 

It was one of the things Chris had respected in Vin from that first day together, that first look across the dirt road as the men trying to hang Nathan had dragged him off toward the cemetery. Vin’s eyes did not lie. Not about him, his resolution, his sense of right and wrong. 

Not about his character and what he believed. 

Chris sighed and held the gaze. “The Bible is what you make it. Everybody reads it a different way. Once you read it yourself, you’ll understand.” 

Vin straightened and for a second, Chris saw the anger in him. And then, as Vin always did, he considered the words and what they meant. His broad shoulders slowly eased downward and he nodded, once. “Hope so,” he said slowly. “Let you know when I can.” 

“Figure Josiah can help you with that, too,” Chris said. “He’s helping with your lessons, right?” 

Vin’s lips twitched again, just a little. “Yeah, he is.” 

He shrugged, settling his coat more in place and looked to Chris. “I’ll go see him now, and we’ll get on the road first thing in the morning. Might be a while before you hear from us, I ain’t gonna waste money reporting nothing, but we’ll be in touch.” 

Chris nodded and held up a hand. “Before you leave, put together some plan so that we at least know where you’re heading. I don’t want you to disappear, and I can’t at least try to find you. She’s a bitch, Vin – don’t underestimate her.” 

Vin swallowed but nodded. “I will. Thanks.” He reached out a hand, and Chris locked his fingers above it, around Vin’s wrist in the tight grip of loyalty they had shared from the start. 

“I owe you,” he said softly. “As I have since you came back with the news from that clerk of court that I didn’t want to hear.” 

Vin swallowed, but he nodded. “Let’s find her.” 

It was a promise, and a plan. 

As he watched Vin walk away, he thought again of Ezra. Of the man he had talked to earlier, polite and gracious, almost solicitous. 

Of the man in his mind’s eye, tousled and bare, almost wicked. 

He needed to think on this, no doubt about it. While Vin was away with Josiah. While Ezra was here and helping him talk to Mary. 

Chris lifted the glass and took another sip, appreciating the taste of it. Appreciating having the ability to drink it. 

Appreciating that he was getting better. 

Not yet strong enough, but maybe by the time they found her. And maybe he would have time to sort out this thing with Ezra.

**Author's Note:**

> Back in March, I asked for prompts for what I hoped would be some quick writing over Spring Break.
> 
> Yeah, not so quick. But the three prompts I gleaned from some awesome people came together in this tetrarch of scenes, set after "Obsession". (The fourth is an epilogue of sorts.)
> 
> This is the second one, in response to Jojo's wonderful and thinky prompt: Chris, discovering Vin and Ezra... anywhere on the spectrum between being intimate or just having some dynamic Chris wouldn't have expected. Any POV, up to you whether it's Gen, Chris/Vin, Chris/Ezra or even Ezra/Vin. And whether it's angsty or not :D - Maybe OW post-Obsession? Chris a little vulnerable, everyone twitchy. 
> 
> (Happy Birthday, I think?)


End file.
